


Unexpectedly Deadly

by InterNutter



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Fantasy Drug Use, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 17:31:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12686919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterNutter/pseuds/InterNutter
Summary: It's just a harmless kids' disease... right? Not so much when you're not a kid.Angus gives Taako the Measles. It gets bad.





	Unexpectedly Deadly

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: TAZ:BA is a shiny, shiny toy that I love to play with. It is not mine, though. It belongs to the McElroys.
> 
> AN: Fucking vaccinate. So-called ‘harmless’ childhood diseases can maim and kill. Meanwhile, Autism has directly caused zero deaths.

Taako would not have hung around waiting for anyone else. He certainly wouldn’t have got so nervous that he was considering busting out his pipe after almost a year without a hit. He was even contemplating it when Angus finally showed up.

“Unfashionably late,” snarked Taako, quickly putting the pipe and the dandelion leaves away. The kid inexplicably worshipped him. It simply would not  _ do _ to let such a young fan discover that their hero smoked weeds.

Then again, Taako  _ was _ a collection of bad habits in excellent fashion and a fancy hat. The world’s greatest detective had to know that, right?

“Sorry, sir,” the kid rasped. Sniffled. Blew his nose on a handkerchief. “I’m… I’m a little under the weather, today.” He sneezed, rapidly and in succession, and finished by coughing. It was not a nice kind of cough. There was a lot of juice in there. “Sorry about that.”

Taako had already witnessed one cold go from someone’s sniffle to a moon-wide plague. “You keep that thing under wraps, homie,” but he rolled a nat twenty on Perception and picked up something weird about Ango’s eyes. “Just hold on a second.”

He moved so that he was on eye level with the kid. Bloodshot. Puffy.  _ And _ he was burning up.

Well fuck.

It  _ could _ be just a cold. Or it could be something more serious. “Lessons are cancelled. You’re on sick leave.” And without permission, without a word more, he scooped up the boy and took long, urgent strides towards the base infirmary.

“Sir?”

“Nothing to panic about,” Taako lied. “Just containing another fucking flu-plague before the entire moon goes down. Again. And I thought I taught you to  _ wash _ your fucking  _ hands _ .”

“I did,” cough cough, “I do. I promise…” sniff.

Taako barged into the infirmary and hammered on the bell with one hand. The instant the medical staff turned up, he dumped Angus unceremoniously on the countertop. “Quarantine this plague before it spreads any further,” he demanded in his usual, over-the-top style. “Taako has no desire to save the world with fucking Ginger Garlic Chicken soup a second gods-damned time. You grok?”

He watched them whisk Angus away for the battery of tests and divinations. Sauntered back outside and stuck the pipe in his mouth. As if leaning against the infirmary wall was the perfect place to do some dandelion leaves. And just the leaves. If he added any of the seeds, he would be tripping through clouds and unaware of any kind of interaction for minutes on end. He just needed the edge taken off of the screaming terror inside his heart.

_ Not red-rash, _ he begged any gods that might be listening as he lit up. Took a deep pull.  _ Please let it not be red-rash. _ People up and fucking  _ died _ from red-rash fever.

He let the smoke out between the gap in his front teeth. The panic was far away from him, now. On the other side of a wall of smoke.

Merle had spontaneously sprung from the footpath. He was glaring at Taako.

“What?”

“The kid is sick in hospital and you’re hanging out and doing weeds?”

Taako inhaled again. “They won’t let me smoke in there, daddy-o.”

“I do  _ not _ know why he looks up to you.”

“He can’t look up to you, you’re about the same height,” Taako had the giggles from that. He could barely take another pull.

“Yeah, yeah. Yuk it up, asshole. And come inside when you’re finished? Magnus’ll need someone to hug.”

His bowl was nearly empty anyway. He held on to his last breath of ‘lion. Let it out between his teeth, again, but aimed it at Merle. “Fffffffffffffffffffine,” he said. “Be a bunch of nervy norberts. I’ll let the meat shield fucking maul me if it’s that gods-damned important.”

It was easier to pretend a lack of concern while floating in a haze of dandelion smoke. He wasn’t even concerned that people could smell it on him. Caring about that shit would happen somewhere else.

The waiting room filled up. Magnus, of course, clung tight to Taako and absently stroked the Elf’s hair since the staff wouldn’t let him whittle waterfowl. Carey and Killian showed up, asked about Angus, and stayed. It was Killian who began nervously knitting. Johan turned up. Avi, too. Even Davenport and the Director herself.

And by all reports, half the fucking moon base was gathered outside in a vigil.

Finally, a nurse turned up. “Mister McDonald is asking for… Taako.” There was a unanimous shuffle as everyone in the room adopted the instant attitude that Taako had done the least to deserve such quality of attention. “And his adventuring companions.”

Magnus rushed in. Of course he did. Merle physically dragged Taako into the room where Angus was sitting up and slowly sipping a broth. “Hello, sirs,” he croaked. “I’m afraid I won’t be adventuring for at least a fortnight. I… it’s roseola.”

“What’s that, again?” said Taako.

“Measles,” said Magnus.

“Red-rash fever,” said Merle. “They used to call it that.”

Taako was and the brat’s bedside in an instant. There was no thought. No need to think. He just leaned in and kissed Angus’ fevered brow. And stood back up as if it wasn’t a thing.

“What the shit?” said Merle.

“Sir?” said Angus. “You just  _ kissed _ me, sir.”

“Old superstition,” said Taako. “Get this. The kiss of an Elf is supposed to protect a  _ child _ from  _ death _ . I used to make fucking  _ bank _ on that thing, back in the day. You’re lucky you got a freebie.” He laughed. “Ridiculous. Of course, every Elf in town would book before anything serious was going around.” And then he nailed the nurse to the wall with his hands. Urgently murmured in her ear. “If the fever doesn’t break and the rash won’t emerge, bathe him in a mixture of water and vinegar. Keep him warm, but not too warm. Got it?”

She nodded.

Out loud, he said, “Good. This is all under control. See you in a fortnight, Ango. You can all bust out the leeches or whatever it is that’s done these days. Toodles.” And slowly sauntered away.

He heard Angus say, “Leeches?”

He heard Magnus say, “He was joking. I think.”

*

That was almost a week ago.

Taako was not an early riser. So Magnus didn’t notice that he wasn’t feeling well. Not straight away. Besides, everyone’s least-favourite Elf was plagued with all kinds of sleep issues. It was normal to see him shuffling out of bed as early as one in the afternoon.

Today, the shuffle was slower. Interspersed with coughing.

And in a fit of uncharacteristic activity, he was busting out some cooking equipment. Ingredients.

Magnus watched in increasing anticipation as Taako got together a soup pot, stock, chicken parts, and herbs and spices and other seemingly random things. And the low-sodium salt shaker.

“Please tell me there’s going to be leftovers?” Magnus begged.

Taako tried to say, “Fuck off,” but didn’t even get through the first syllable before nearly collapsing in a fit of coughing and sneezing.

“Oh fuck,” Magnus rushed in. Checked on his wizard friend. Red, puffy eyes. Feverish. “Open your mouth a sec?”

“Auh?” said Taako.

Red spots. Shit. “You caught it off the kid,” he said, and scooped Taako over his shoulder in one smooth motion. No time to change him out of his PJ’s. No time to even do his hair. No time for even the dignity of his hat.

He needed to  _ run _ .

“What the--?” complained Taako. “Hey! The fuck’re you even  _ doing _ ?”

Magnus was running for the infirmary like a linebacker after the goal line. Though he wasn’t going to spike Taako when he got there. “Outta the way! Outta the way! Medical emergency!”

“This is unnecessary,” complained Taako. “I’m fine. Just…” cough cough cough “Ginger Garlic…” sneeze “Chicken Soup and a fuckton of tea.”

“Nope,” said Magnus. “This is dangerous beans.”

“This is embarrassing, it’s a  _ child’s _ disease.” He tried to struggle, but he had disadvantage on all of his Dex throws.

Now they were in the infirmary, and someone was staffing the counter. Magnus said, “He caught it off the kid.” 

There were no klaxons. Just a fantasy loudspeaker saying the words, “Code puce in the foyer. Code puce in the foyer.”

Taako was shivering. “Asshole,” he croaked. “You didn’t even grab my cloak.”

And then the medical staff  _ swarmed _ . Swooped Taako away. Magnus snagged a satellite nurse and said, “He doesn’t get it. Can you explain to him why it’s so dangerous for adults?”

*

“I don’t understand it either, sir,” said Angus. He was covered in red spots, but otherwise fine. A little on the uncomfortable side, of course, but relatively hale and hearty. “I’ve got it and I’m more or less peachy keen.”

“Yeah. Kids bounce back from this stuff a lot easier. With adults… uh. It hits adults way worse. Taako could get complications.” Magnus twiddled with his fingers. “He could get bronchitis. Or pneumonia. He could even go blind or deaf. Or…” He could say this. Even though he didn’t even want to think it. “Or he could die.”

Angus blanched. Touched his forehead where Taako had kissed him. “I didn’t mean it to happen…”

“I thought it wouldn’t happen. We all heard him say it. He made bank kissing kids to protect them.”

“He also said he got out of town before anything serious got around. That’s… that’s quarantine, sir.”

“We all missed it,” said Magnus. “We all assumed. Well. The good news is that Taako’s the only one on the moon who never had measles before. So. It’s contained. No repeats of Kristo’s Dire-Flu. The bad news is… Taako’s sick.”

“Elder Highchurch can use Cure Disease, though. Right?”

“Only if it gets dicey. Thing with these diseases is, once you get ‘em, you never get ‘em again. If we use Cure Disease, Taako won’t have the immunity, and we could do this all over again at a later date.”

*

Taako was sinking. He could feel it. He couldn’t get comfortable. It was hard to breathe. He kept coughing so hard that his ribs hurt, when he wasn’t sneezing so hard that his head rattled. He couldn’t get warm. The food was all but inedible. The bed was hard. The decor was bland and depressing.

And he was so utterly alone.

They’d taken his PJ’s. They’d refused to let him have a pipe. They manhandled him in ways both cold and impersonal.

He was going to die.

From a stupid  _ kiss. _

As far as ways to die were concerned, Taako would much prefer something far more salacious. Like being balls deep in a young and nubile lover at a grand old age. Soaked in life’s pleasures and well pickled in alcohol.

It started out with a kiss. How did it end up like this?

It was only a kiss.

A frivolous show of affection. A token to wish that little infectious brat well. It was nothing. It was only a kiss.

Someone was giving him a sponge bath. Tepid water that reeked of vinegar. Taako moaned and opened his eyes. It was the same nurse he’d told to treat Angus. Not looking at him. Just doing her job.

“...really?” he croaked.

“Your fever won’t break and the spots aren’t emerging. Worth a shot, right? Old remedies exist for a reason.”

“Yeah, sure,” he mumbled. “Bust out the leeches.” He closed his eyes.

A delicious smell brought him round. Ginger Garlic Chicken Soup. Just like he would have made it if the lunk hadn’t dragged him away.

And speak of the devil. There was the muscle-bound meat-head himself. With a ridiculously floral apron on and a charmed bowl of hot soup.

“They said you weren’t eating well, and that’s always dangerous so… I worked out what you were gonna make and made it.”

Taako tried a cautious spoonful. Perfect. “How?”

“Your book’s in the base library. Oh. And I used fresh chicken, of course. The stuff that got left out was gross by the time I thought of it.”

It would be. “Tell me you cleaned.”

“Doy. Yes. You have like five chapters in that thing about proper cleaning and food freshness. Nothing but the best for Taako, right?”

*

Two days later, the hospital’s quiet was rent asunder by a scream of terror. It came from Taako’s room.

By the time Killian got there, the curtains were drawn, the lights were all turned off, and there was a figure hunched in the darkest corner of the room.

“Don’t look at me,” Taako sobbed. “Don’t look at me.”

Ugh. Elfin melodrama. “It’s just the rash,” she sighed. “It’s perfectly normal and you’re being a big baby about it.” She drew the curtains.

“No!” Taako tried to hide himself. “I’m a monster! I’m hideous!”

Gods, he was a hot mess. “What were you like when you got your first pimple? Criminy. You made me drop a stitch, you gorgeous asshole.” She put her knitting down and tidied him back into bed. Combed his hair for him.

“Never had pim...hhhmmmmm…” Taako hummed in delight. Who could have ever guessed that he just loved having his hair done for him? Killian wove his golden curls into a set of braids and then fixed up her knitting.

Taako still wouldn’t look at her. “What even is that?”

Well. She was nearly done, anyway. “Sick boy present. Little… wizard sleeping hat. But… Angus is almost ready to walk out of here and he’s practically swimming in presents, so…” she shrugged. “I’ve been up-sizing it for you. Not that you deserve that much.”

Actual, genuine tears were falling from his mismatched eyes. “...’nk you,” he said. “Y’r too kind.”

Killian kept knitting. “I swear to the gods, if you go off about being ugly again, I will make you eat this thing.”

“Noted,” said Taako. “And I promise not to tell that you came by and showed me you cared.”

*

That was more or less the deal. People around the moon didn’t want anyone else to know that they actually cared about Taako the Rampant Asshole.

Magnus came with tempting dishes made with the help of Taako’s own book.

Killian finished the silly, green cone with gold trim, and finished the tip off with a gold tassel. It would make him two feet taller if it actually stood upright, but with the hospital gown, it made him look like some weak-ass adventuring Elf with a bad case of the pox.

Carey brought in the flowers.

Avi was the one to regularly do his hair.

The Director herself snuck in cupcakes and sweet treats.

Even Johan, the perpetual gloomy gus, came by to ease Taako into a restful sleep with the world’s most beautiful lullaby.

Only one visitor was bold.

He came in with a book, spots fading into his dark skin, and sat down beside Taako. He cracked open the book and began, “Caleb Cleveland, Kid Cop, and the Mystery of Fallow Fields. Chapter one. It’s not every day that a human skull turns up on a literal field trip…”

Angus didn’t seem to mind that Taako would doze during the readings. He didn’t seem to care if Taako paid him any attention at all. He just came in, read a chapter, said something along the lines of, “Feel better soon, sir,” and left.

The cough remained. Persisted. Got… juicier. Taako was not feeling better. He wished he could. For Ango.

One was conspicuous by his absence.

Understandable. Merle was like two hundred and something. He probably had his fill of sick beds and death watches. Or he didn’t like not being able to do anything but watch his teammate get sick. Sicker.

And then one day, he turned up.

“My spots just about match yours,” said Taako. “Though they keep telling me they’ll fade.”

“You look like you were stung by about a million wasps,” said Merle. He handed Taako something.

A pipe.

He’d already packed it with three dried dandelion leaves and three seeds as well. Fluff side up.

“Triple fluff. My man. My dude,” Taako almost instantly cheered right up. Set his bed up so that he could lean and enjoy the ‘lion. “This is fucking aid and succour to the ailing. You fucking win.”

Merle had a pipe of his own. And a different kind of weed. “This one’s for me, tweedle dee,” he said, and pulled a bottle out of his bag of holding. “And this is for us.”

Fantasy Grey Goose. “Shit yeah. That’s what’s the bomb.” He poured two cups. It might taste like key lime go-gurt, but it would still pack a wallop. “To a fast recovery.”

Merle clinked. “To getting shit-faced while all the nurses are watching Fantasy Soaps.”

They drank. Taako lit up. Took a deep, deep drag so long that Merle’s eyes bugged. Held it for longer than most would believe. All discomfort. All care. All anxiety just… went away. The world was a gigantic, comfortable softness. And he finally let it out between his teeth, “Fffffffffffffu-hu-huck, I needed that. What took you so fuckin’ long?”

“Holy shit, you sucked down half a bowl in one drag…”

“Gotta main it ‘fore they detain it,” Taako smirked.

“Screw that,” said Merle, and cast Dispel Fumes. “I plan on enjoying mine. Making it last.”

“I’ll drink to that,” chirped Taako. Pouring another two cups.

By the time the nurses found them, they were both drunk as skunks, and stoned to the gills. Laughing and talking gibberish at each other in the way that only the simultaneously drunk and stoned could do.

And despite this, the infirmary staff gave a good prognosis for Taako’s recovery.

Which was why it was such a shock when he took a turn for the worse.

The cough turned into Pneumonia, which almost sucked the life right out of him. In a matter of days, Taako went from on the road to recovery to a sharp and terrifying spiral downwards.

They had him in isolation, because the least little thing could get him while he was down. They pumped him so full of fantasy antibiotics that his skin changed colour from it. And they had him on a fantasy ventilator that delivered aerosol medicine directly to his lungs. Food came to him via a tube that went into his nose.

He was in bad shape.

All Taako could do was violently cough up sputum and then lie back down to gasp through the ventilator.

Those who had been sneaking in to visit Taako were now openly lined up at the observation window, watching that skinny chest rise and fall.

“I was gonna make him an omelette,” said Magnus. “They can’t put that in his nose baggie.”

“Nasogastric tube,” corrected Angus.

“It was just one pipe,” said Merle. “I only wanted to cheer him up.”

“The pipe didn’t do this,” whispered the Director. “I fed him too many sweets.”

“We were up to chapter seven,” said Angus. Tears were filling his eyes. “That’s when it starts getting good…”

“Screw this,” said Johan. He put his violin to his chin and started to play. It was not his usual melancholy dirge, but a vibrant and raucous tune that celebrated life and everything worth living for. Forte, so that Taako could hear it in his isolation.

There is magic in a bard’s melody. And while it can’t perform miracles like a cleric, or make something out of nothing like a wizard, it can calm an agitated heart, or lift the spirits of the depressed.

And put a smile on the face of an Elf who thought he was going to die.

Taako’s recovery was slow. Painful. Carefully watched. He was weighed and monitored and, because only Magnus’ offerings were what Taako would eat, he was allowed to depart from hospital food.

Under strict supervision and consultation with the Infirmary’s dietician.

It took months before he was allowed to go back to his quarters. Carey and Killian picked out an outfit for him. Brought along the Umbrastaff, which latched on to his arm as if it planned to never let go again. Which, in turn, was a slight impediment to his using it like a cane on his way out.

And in deference to his recovery, he insisted on wearing Killian’s knitted cap.

He never expected applause as Magnus helped him up out of the wheelchair.

“What’s all the fuss about,” he said, “it’s just a dumb kids’ disease.”

“Pity you aren’t a dumb kid, sir,” said Angus, who insisted on helping him walk.

Yeah. There was  _ that _ little snag in the works.

It would be weeks, yet, before he was back to full health points. But in the meantime, he had plenty of opportunities to sleep in, eat soup, and do nothing. With hand and foot service from Magnus.

Merle caught him eyeing off a random dandelion growing out of the footpath. “Absolutely not, young man. You wait until your  _ full _ recovery before you take another toke.”

“Fucking narc,” muttered Taako. But, gods, it was good to be going home.

Fuck.

He actually had a  _ home _ .

 

END!


End file.
